


Liar, Liar, Pants on Fire!

by craigstucker



Category: South Park
Genre: 5+1 Things, Childhood Friends, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Hospitals, M/M, Minor Injuries, Sick Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-02-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:55:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22120642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/craigstucker/pseuds/craigstucker
Summary: There are two things Kyle fears in this world1. Spiders2. Kenny McCormick being rightOrFive times Kyle lies to Kenny McCormick (+the one time he doesn't)
Relationships: Craig Tucker/Tweek Tweak (background), Kyle Broflovski/Kenny McCormick
Comments: 17
Kudos: 115





	1. I'm not sick

**Author's Note:**

> this will be five chapters (very short chapter) and it should hopefully be wrapped up by the end of this month :)

The Friday before Christmas break begins, Kenny is the last to show up at the bus stop. He wakes up a little late, and honestly, he considers not going to school at all. There's one more day before a week-long hiatus from education, and it's not like they would do anything besides watch crappy holiday movies in every class. He debates getting up and getting ready as he lies in bed for a while.

Then, his flip phone vibrates with an urgent text from Stanley Marsh, and his decision is made.

He scrambles the short walk to the familiar bus stop coated with fresh snow. He thanks Jesus fuckin' Christ that Stan was brainy enough to disregard Kyle's claims that he was okay, and as far as his text insisted, Kyle wouldn’t admit that he was sick.

"Dude, he's burning up, and I'm pretty sure he overdosed on Nyquil." Stan exclaims.

Cartman has his arm crossed off to the side, a devious grin plastered across his face. "He called me a fatbutt instead of a fatass." 

"M'fine..." Kyle complained through a snot-filled voice. He groggily glared at Stan, which had little effect. He wobbled slightly, lacking the awareness that he began to lean on his best friend. "I tol' you, it's just an— _A'CHOO!_ "

Stan looks at Kenny with wide eyes, holding the boy up. "See?"

Kenny sighs, looking over Kyle's flushed freckled cheeks and his fragile red eyes. "Ky, you need to go home, okay? Does your mom know you're sick?"

"I'm not sick— you're sick, Penny!"

"Definitely overdosed on Nyquil." Stan mumbles. He gently passed Kyle into Kenny's grasp before digging through his backpack. "I must have a tissue pack in here somewhere... listen, we gotta take him home."

"I'll take him, dude. You'll miss the bus and get in trouble with your mom for skipping class." Kenny replied, leaving little room for negotiation as Kyle began to mumble nonsense about the clouds speaking to him. "My parents won't give a shit. I was planning to take the day off anyway."

Stan finally found a pack of tissues inside his bag and handed them to Kyle, who refused and shoved them away with a shaking head; too distracted making faces at Cartman.

"Are you sure you can handle him?" he asks, attempting once again to lightly push the tissues into his friend's face. "You know how stubborn he is, especially when he's—Kyle, take the fucking tissues!"

"You take th' fucking tissues, Staniel!" Kyle retorted with a tone that would feel far more effective had it not been for the drowsiness in his voice.

Kenny sighs, still in his pajamas that were barely covered by the familiar parka he had thrown on before heading out the door. “Okay, let's get you home, Ky." He suggested softly.

Cartman scoffs at this, rolling his eyes. "Good luck facing the meltdown of his bitch-ass mom when she sees his condition." 

"My bitch-ass mom isn't even home..." Kyle thinks aloud in not nearly as much of a quiet tone as he had meant to use.

“Then who is?” Stan questioned with alarm.

“Ma and dad traveled to New York for a friend’s wedding for a couple of days.” He shrugs, rubbing sleepily at his eyes with a yawn. “S’ just me and Ike.”

“Dude," Stan says.

Kyle looks at him with wide eyes. "Dude?"

"Dude... just— _dude_." Stan begins. Out of the corner of his eye, Kenny can see Cartman cross his arms and begin to tap his foot. Neither of the other two take notice, and Stanley continues. "You have to take better care of yourself. How long have you been sick? You told me you were just tired..."

"Okay... okay, _mom._ I'll jus' let you know like, everything, Staniel the _mom_." Kyle slowly responds with a frustrated tone that he would've attempted to hide to his best friend had it not been for the lightness in his head. "You aren't the boss of me and— _ACHOO!_ " Kyle wipes at his wet eyes, and Kenny held back a look of surprise. _The medication really took a toll on him._ "Okay, Staniel? Mind... mind your beeswax!"

"It's not Staniel, buddy." Stan replied quietly, holding back a glare considering his friend's condition. "Just..." He sighed. "Kenny, will you please take him home? He's too sick to think clearly, and he clearly doesn't want me."

"I told you I'm not sick! I'm healthy all th' time!"

Cartman snorted loudly with exaggeration. "Oh, really? Then who's the Jew we've been seeing in the hospital twice a year and sitting in bed surrounded by tissues twice a month?"

Kyle hit him with a cold look. "I'm not sick."

"You're such a pussy." Cartman laughed.

Just before Kyle was able to lunge, Kenny grabbed one of his shoulders; his free hand wrapped in Kyle's. He was unsurprisingly light due to the weight loss that often vanished from his already small figure, and the blonde was easily able to pick him up and toss him over his shoulder, ignoring the boy's protests. 

Kenny looked at Stan. "I'm taking him home. I'll text you later, man."

"Don't get infected with tainted Jewish germs," Cartman explained, ignoring the glares he received in response. "I'm just looking out for you, poor boy."

Stan sighed and waved. "Bye, Ken... feel better, Kyle. Will you text me?"

Kyle was unable to catch eye contact on the other side of Kenny's shoulder that was not facing the other two, but he spoke with a noisy and fever-ridden sniffle. "No. Fuck you, Staniel."

Nobody could really take the threat seriously, but Kenny could see the hurt behind Stan's eyes. Stan didn’t say anything, only tuning away to face an entertained Eric Cartman with tightened fists.

And that's how Kenny McCormick ended up practically carrying one of his closest friends through the doorway of that particular boy's empty house. 

Kyle was half asleep by the time they reached home, strikingly allowing himself to be carried, or perhaps just too tired to object.

Kenny laid him down on the couch, taking his snow boots off for him and setting a blanket across his friend. Kyle began to mumble nonsense and opened his eyes sluggishly. "Kenny? Why does Stan treat me like I'm still a kid?" He asked with a stubborn grumble, his cheek still resting against the sofa pillow.

"Sometimes you act like one, Ky." Kenny chuckled, sitting down on the couch next to him. "Why did you get so mad at him?"

"I just don’t want to be treated any different than... than the way you treat me, Kenny. You're good t' me."

McCormick was speechless. He stared at Kyle with wide eyes; Kyle, who begins to fiddle with the edges of the blanket absentmindedly and reaches for a tissue from the box that Kenny had brought to the living room.

"Uh..." He finally spoke, anxiously looking for some sort of diversion. That was weird. Not weird like, weird-weird... but strange. "Ky, you should go to sleep, okay? I'll make you some soup and check your temperature. You sound really sick."

"But, Kenny... I've got t' tell you something." Kyle replied in a soft whisper.

Kenny leaned in with childlike wonder, before catching himself and freezing. _Oh god... fuck... he's too out of it—he's gonna say something he'll regret!_ "No... no, Kyle. You need some sleep."

"Kenny..."

And fuck, he couldn’t like, say no to that voice.

He gulped. "Yeah?"

Kyle stared into Kenny's gleaming grey eyes. His breathing was heavy due to the fever, and Kyle realizes he needs to say what must be said.

"I jus' wanted to let you know..."

Kenny nodded along, attached to every word.

And then, Kyle Broflovski smirked, lying back down drowsily. "I'm not fucking sick."


	2. I'm not gay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> kyle: a dumbass
> 
> kenny: a double dumbass

Kenny first notices the whole ordeal on a Wednesday at the lunch table.

"Dude, did you see Wendy's new hat today?"

Stan asks the question toward his best friend as if he's expecting Kyle to care. The redhead realized as he sat next to Cartman, Kenny, and his best friend at the lunch table that there were lots of other aspects of life to care about. His eyes darted away.

"I think it's like, a new shade of pink or something." Stan continues.

Kenny shakes his head. "Nah, dude. Her old hat was pink. _Now_ it's purple."

Kyle is examining the cafeteria, searching and hoping for something interesting to latch onto so he doesn’t have to listen to Stan's fucking rambling about the girl he's been in love with since the third grade.

"I think I would know what color her hat is, Kenny."

"Wendy doesn’t need a new hat. She needs a paper bag over her head."

"Shut the fuck up, Cartman. You're just jealous that I got to date her." Stan argues, and Kyle doesn’t have to turn to look to know that his best friend is crossing his arms.

"Yeah, and she broke up with you every week!"

"That was only like, twelve times!"

Kyle notices Tweek and Craig holding hands in the lunch line across the cafeteria. The server is handing a tray of mac and cheese over to Bebe, who stands a couple of spaces in front of the couple. Clyde is poking at Craig's shoulder trying to get his best friend's attention, but Tucker's eyes are locked on Tweek's lips as the boy sputters out sentences that make his boyfriend look at him like he's the entire world.

Kyle wishes he had something that special.

Kenny was speaking. "Stan, why do you go for Wendy when she breaks your heart like this? Remember when she left you for Token back when were younger and you became goth and hung out with—"

"Yes, I remember. Can we _please_ stop bringing that up every time I talk about the love of my life?"

Kyle tries his best not to grimace. He can feel Stan tossing him a glance every few minutes to see if he has input, but he has nothing to say out loud. He can only wish that he had nothing to say in his head.

"Love of your life?" Cartman repeats with a loud bubble of cocky laughter. "I knew you were a fag!"

"It's not gay to be in love with a girl, dumbass!"

"It is when you say shit like, 'the love of your life,' Stan." Kenny adds, restraining a snort.

"Fuck you guys." He replied, but it was clear that he was out of defensive remarks. 

Kyle continued to stare at the shortening lunch line to distract himself. The server was an old plump woman, and Kyle didn’t understand how the school had the heart to keep firing and rehiring cafeteria workers, after continuing to attempt and becoming unsuccessful at finding someone dedicated enough to permanently replace Chef. It had been four years, and the boys were in 8th grade. It would be their final year learning in the middle school before they moved on as freshmen to a bigger and slightly cleaner building to live out the final four chapters of their school life. 

Kyle noticed the newfound silence coming from his friends, and for the first time since Stan had brought up his ex-girlfriend, Kyle looked up. The three were staring at him weirdly, and he uncomfortably shifted.

" _What!?_ " He asked in a more alarmed tone than intended.

"You're being quiet. It's weird." Kenny replied quickly, putting his hands up in defense.

"Yeah, you okay?" Stan questioned softly. 

"Why bother?" Cartman dove back into his lunch. "I think we've all heard the Jew talk enough to save us an entire lifetime."

"Shut up, fatass." Kyle defended with a weak glare. 

"Seriously, you look upset. What's up?" 

It was Stan who asked. How ironic.

_Just shut up about Wendy. Keep your eyes off her for two damn seconds._

Kyle felt awful. He didn’t have the right to be angry at his best friend for expressing his lingering feelings about his ex. What did Kyle have to lose from it? He wanted Stan to be happy—he wanted it above his own happiness, so why did the entire situation make him feel so somberly bitter?

He looked back up at Stan's concerned and careful gaze. Kenny was staring at him too, and Kyle was hit with a wave of deep frustration.

"Stop looking at me like that!" He snapped.

"There he is."

"Shut up, Kenny!" Kyle just about growled.

"Okay, Jesus Christ!" The blonde remarked.

Cartman rolled his eyes. "Alert the media, the king of dramatics is being dramatic again. This is what happens when you let Jews out of their cages, right guys?"

Stan and Kenny knew what to expect. They were able to grasp onto their friend's shoulders just before the redhead's closed fists could reach his sworn frenemy. He continued to senselessly swing with frustration as Cartman shrieked cowardly while he made sure to guard his food. 

"Kyle, what the hell is the matter with you?" Stan questioned skittishly as he gripped his friend's arm tighter.

"Like you give a shit, Stan!"

"What is _that_ supposed to mean?!"

Kyle had stopped kicking and swinging meaninglessly, and Kenny let go cautiously.

Stan held on, gripping his best friend's orange jacket like a lifeline. Stan looked for any traces of an explanation to his words, before Kyle ripped his arm away as if his gaze had burned.

The redhead let out a heavy breath, before shaking his head and storming out of the cafeteria.

Stan watched him leave, and he began to sputter thoughts. "Is he okay? What the fuck was that? Did I like, do something wrong? I didn’t do shit!"

"Let me handle this, man." Kenny sighed as he brushed curls of sandy hair out of his eyes. "Just... stay here, okay? I'll be right back."

Stan didn’t say anything, but his frown was evidently troubled. With a slight nod of hesitation, Kenny jogged off after his friend.

Down the hall, Kyle sat against the wall as he took a deep breath. Dropping his head into his curled up knees, he could hear footsteps approaching. He couldn’t express himself because he didn’t know what the hell he was feeling, and how on earth was he supposed to deal with the unknown?

Kyle didn’t raise his head, but he could hear the light strides reach a stop in front of him. He heard more than felt the individual sit down right next to him, and soon after many moments of silence, he could smell the scent of a newly lit cigarette. 

"Kenny?" He guessed without lifting his head.

"Yup, it's just me," Came the soft reply.

"Kenny... Kenny." Kyle starts, and it takes the blonde a few moments to realize that Kyle freakin' Broflovski is crying. It takes even longer to realize that it hurts his heart. "I'm not—I don’t like him—I just..." Kyle cries some more; his curled up figure shaking. "I'm not gay."

There. He spits it out.

Kenny pauses, hesitating and thinking out his words.

So he says, "You're not gay."

"I'm not gay." Kyle whispers, curling tighter in himself. "I'm not."

Kenny sits with him for a long, long time in that (very luckily) empty hallway. Kenny pats his shoulder and runs soothing shoulders on his back. 

"I'm not gay." The redhead repeats through sobs.

And somehow, they both know that Kyle Broflovski is a goddamn liar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed! :)


	3. I'll be okay (he isn't)

"Craig, I'm trying to shoot the ball!" Clyde Donovan complains after his best friend blocks his shot for what seems to be the hundredth time in a game of basketball down at the park. Clyde's brown eyes are laced with great offense. "You're stopping me from winning!"

"Yeah, that's kind of the point considering we're on opposite teams." Craig remarks in response as he easily steals the bouncing ball from Clyde's unsteady grasp.

Tweek, Stan, Kyle, and Kenny watch the two bickering peers compete while snacking on some of the junk Stan brought from home. The weather is breezy and cool enough to not be freezing; something unordinary for the town of South Park.

The boys are in their sophomore year of high school, and things are beginning to change.

For one, Cartman doesn’t really hang around much. He's often with Butters; the only person nice enough to tolerate such a cruel kid. Instead, Stan, Kyle and Kenny usually find themselves hanging out with Craig and those guys, who really aren't too bad. Sometimes, it feels like Stan is growing apart from them with his occupation of following Wendy and her friends around, leaving a lot of time for Kenny and Kyle to lazily hang out and play video games together until 4am.

Kyle misses Stan, and Kenny does what he can to make Stan realize this.

It doesn’t really work.

So all Kenny can really do is try his best to be there for Kyle.

That's why, when Kyle starts clutching the right side of his stomach on that unwinding day at the park, alarm bells go off.

"You alright, Ky?" Kenny asks almost immediately. 

Hs breathes out shakily in response. "Fuck, dude. This one side of my stomach has been driving me insane all day."

Stan curiously looks Kyle over. "Is it diabetes? Do you need water or anything?"

Kyle thinks and tries not to panic at Tweek's sputters of nonsense. "No, it's not that. It's probably just a cramp. Fuck." He hisses.

"Oh, Jesus, Kyle. The right side? Is it t-the lower abdomen, or is it higher on your belly? It has to be your appendix! Oh, man. Dude, you have to get that ch-checked out! You're gonna die if you don’t, I know it!" Tweek stammered out frantically. " _Gah_ _!_ What if it's too _late?!_ "

"Honey?"

"Ngh—Craig!"

Craig Tucker walks over to the bunch with Clyde trailing behind him. He places his palm in Tweek's, and as if in an instant, Tweek's body seems to melt into some form of relaxation that had been impossible to find before.

"What's going on?" Clyde asks, plopping down on the grass next to Kenny. He looked around, picking up the atmosphere and tilted his head. "Why're you so pale, Broflovski? You okay, man?"

"Fine." Kyle grits out, his hand still wrapped around the right side of his stomach.

Kenny sighs. "Ky, you're clearly not. You've barely been eating lately and the other day you told me you felt nauseous... don't you think it could be—"

"Kenny, I'll be okay. I promise." Kyle is quick to cut him off. "It's just a cramp."

Stan crosses his arms, scooching closer. "I dunno, Kyle. Maybe you should talk to your mom about it."

"Are you mental? Don't you know the gross coddling I would have to go through if I did that?" Kyle scoffs. "It's like you don't know me anymore, Stan."

Stan frowns and looks away.

Kenny sighs, understanding Kyle's wish for a conversation change. "Anyone up for a round of basketball?"

Tweek nods as Clyde agrees with a cheer. Stan is still looking down at Kyle's persistently cold expression, and Kenny pretends he doesn’t know that Kyle Broflovski maybe has a crush on Stan Marsh.

He likes someone; Kenny knows that. With observations surrounding how often the redhead has been lashing out at Stan, Kenny assumes it's gotta be him. So, Kenny pretends he doesn’t know, and Kenny pretends it doesn’t hurt.

Craig, Clyde, and Tweek have reached the court while Stan and Kenny look down at Kyle, who's breathing in and out sharply. The two exchange panicky looks when Kyle lets out a whimper of pain. 

"Dude, maybe we should take you home." Stan says.

Kyle fiercely shakes his head, still clutching the right side of his lower stomach. "No... no. Let's play basketball, right?"

"But—"

"It's nothing, Stan! Leave me alone!"

He looks surprised at his best friend's outburst before a hard look crosses his eyes. "Fine. Whatever, asshole. Your stubbornness will be the death of you... see if I care."

Kyle doesn’t say anything when Stan marches off the court, where Craig, Tweek, and Clyde are staring with wide eyes. Kyle's expression hasn’t changed from his natural glare.

"Stan doesn’t get me," Is all he says. He's still holding his belly. "Not like you do, Kenny."

Kenny cares when Kyle says stuff like that. 

"But maybe Stan's right, Ky." He declares quietly.

"I told you that I'll be okay." He replies with a hiss. He shifts around, removing his hand from it's sore spot and moving to stand up. "let's just go play basketball.

Kenny sighs and turns around heading to the court.

It takes him a few seconds to reach the area, and a few more seconds to see Stan's gasp. Time feels like it's moving in slow motion as he turns around to follow the boy's gaze, and it takes even more seconds and seconds to accept that Kyle has collapsed on the ground and isn't moving.

Stan scrambles over and yells at Craig to call an ambulance. Kenny is frozen with shock as he watches Kyle scream out curses and begin to sob over the pain in his body. Stan jumbles out apologies for what he previously said, and he tells Kyle to lie down.

It's a bit dramatic because Tweek is claiming that it's gotta be his appendix, and it's rare that Tweek is wrong for something like this. It's a bit dramatic because appendicitis isn't life-threatening, but watching Kyle crying on the ground makes Kenny feel like it is. It's a bit dramatic because Kenny feels some form of anger.

Kyle said he'd be okay. Now he wasn’t.

The ambulance pulls up, and the worker tells the boys that it is, indeed, appendicitis. 

Kyle goes into surgery, and he turns out alright. He's got a scar on his stomach now, and he'll be released from the hospital fairly soon. Stan and Kenny visit him as soon as they can, and they buy him a T-shirt that says, 'I survived my appendix surgery and all I got was a stupid shirt!' It's stupid, but it makes Kyle laugh and everything feels okay again. 

Stan apologizes for what he says, and Kyle apologizes for how he's been acting toward him. He tells Stan that he was jealous of how much time Stan had been spending with Wendy, and Stan says he's sorry. Kenny thinks about it a lot. 

They all laugh about it, and Kenny claims that 'the undeclared war is over' with a wide grin. 

But the thing is, Kenny's still angry. 

Kyle _said_ he'd be okay.


	4. You'll be okay (he isn't)

Kenny knew the saying 'life’s not fair'

He carried it with him for 17 years. He knew that good people didn’t always find love, and he knew that cruel people were wealthy with power, and he knew that death would do anything to knock him off the earth for good.

Well, good fucking luck with that.

Kenny didn’t understand much about death, but he knew it was dark and cold. It swallowed him up weekly and crushed his spirit with astounding cruelty.

He thinks about it a lot, just like the way he was thinking about it right now before a snowball slammed across his face.

He gaped for a moment, then whipped around to see Kyle grinning at him with a pile of snow in his hands. Stan, Tweek, and Craig trailed behind him.

“Gotcha!” Kyle beamed.

“You asked for it, Ky...” Kenny replied with a laugh as snow dribbled down his cheek. He leaned down to gather the slush on the ground as another snowball smacked against his right leg.

"I'd love to see you try." He rolled his eyes affectionately in response. "You can't aim for shit! You throw like a— _FUCK!_ "

Kyle was cut off with a well-deserved snowball to the face. He sputtered out complaints as he attempted to shake off the wetness while Kenny reached the four with a wide grin.

Stan snorted. "Nice one, Kenny. For a second there, I thought we were actually going to have to listen to another speech."

"Screw you, Stan." Kyle remarked lightly. "Anyway, are we skating, or what?"

"Well, ice hockey is actually pretty dangerous when you think about it," Tweek squeaked out, but he grinned. "But let's do it!"

Tweek Tweak had loosened up over the years, and Craig had grown kinder, much to everyone's surprise. In addition, Stan had gotten used to the fact that the 'love of his life' was now his girlfriend; Kyle joined the state debate team to release his frustrations surrounding certain aspects of society. Things were beginning to change, but the statement could not be said for a certain blonde.

Nobody remembered shit about the hundreds of times that Kenny McCormick died.

"Are the other guys coming?" Stan asks as he hands an extra pair of hockey skates to Kenny. 

"Not today. Jimmy can't be the referee because he's grounded, and Token and Clyde have detention." Craig answers as Tweek sticks earmuffs onto the boy's familiar hat.

Kyle tilted his head curiously. "What'd they get detention for? The last time I remember Token of all people getting punished was like, fifth grade for punching Cartman in the face. But like, the punch was well deserved." he rambled on. "The fatass was going on about how it wasn’t women that belonged in the kitchen... which would've been correct if he hadn't added that 'black people' should be doing the work instead. He still thinks slavery should be legal! Can you believe such an arrogant dickhead is—"

"You talk too much, Broflovski." Craig interrupted. "We get it, you're obsessed with Cartman."

" _Obsessed?_ Obsessed, Craig? Sure, obsessed with the fact that he's intolerant and supports white supremacy!"

Stan sighed. "Oh, brother. Here we go again."

"His opinions devalue the rights and humanity of anyone who isn't exactly like him! His attempts at rising racism or anti-Semitism somehow always finds its way to South Park's head, and he never gets the blame! He doesn’t suffer any consequences, and it leads to several loopholes that allow him to do it over and over to the point where..."

Kyle continued to release his statement, not noticing Craig ushering the others out onto the ice. 

"...you'd think that we, as the progressive United States, wouldn't allow this bullshit to continue in 2020, but here we are still listening to Eric Cartman's intolerance while the public proceeds to act like his beliefs are just another little quirk of South Park! His behavior should be deemed unacceptable and..."

"Let's leave this one alone. He'll snap out of it soon enough. I'm going out onto the ice." Craig whispered as Kyle took notice.

Stan and Tweek made eye contact, shrugging at each other before following Craig. Stan turned when he realizes the other pair of footsteps was not close behind and watched Kenny McCormick with a puzzled expression.

He was staring at Kyle babbling and staring at him like he was the whole universe. He was staring at Kyle babbling about intolerance and society as if he hadn't heard the redhead's opinions a million times before.

Stan's a bit dumb.

He doesn’t get it.

Kenny doesn’t really understand it either.

"South Park needs to be better... we need to focus our privilege into those who are less fortunate instead of spending our energy discriminating against others for looking different. Cartman's fat-assed opinions are encouraging the people to do the exact opposite and you can't prove me wrong! You must admit he has some type of power over South Park—some evil type of control—something that makes the people want to listen. This is exactly how Hitler—"

"Kyle! Dude!" Stan snapped with exasperation.

Kyle's cut off speech halted as he blinked, looking at Stan's crossed arms. He didn’t say anything, and Stan continued.

"You broke Kenny." 

Kenny too snaps out of his gaze. "Hey! I—I was just listening!"

Stan seems to be connecting the dots by now.

"You were—" _looking at my best friend like how I look at my girlfriend._ Stan shook his head. "Let's just... play a match of hockey, right?"

Stan doesn’t wait for their response; he is quick to turn and scramble out onto the ice with Tweek and Craig.

Yup, he's definitely connected the dots by now. 

Kyle sighs as he plops down in the snow beside Kenny to slip on his skates. "Dude, why do you listen to me?"

Kenny looks over at the boy's warm face. "Hm?"

"When I give my annoying... speeches, you listen. You don’t roll your eyes and—and you listen. Like, really listen."

"Maybe I like what you have to say, Ky."

"Well, I don’t think I ever thanked you for that. So... thank you."

Kenny doesn’t say anything in response. He simply sends a smile and stands, holding a gloved hand out to help Kyle up from his position after his skates are fully on. It only takes a moment before Kyle accepts his hand and rises from the snow with a grin as they bump shoulders walking down to the frozen pond. 

And Kenny knows he's an unlucky guy.

So why was it such a surprise when the ice beneath his feet began to crackle?

"D'you guys hear that?" Tweek questioned curiously, glancing around.

"Holy fuck. Holy fuck—Kenny!" Stan shouts out.

Kenny feels like everything around him is shifting in slow motion as he slowly looks below his feet.

And right below them is a splitting crack in the ice.

Just a daily quirk in the life of Kenny McCormick.

He can hear Kyle distantly. "Kenny—you'll be okay, just... just fucking take my hand, okay?"

_You'll be okay._

Kenny likes to pretend Kyle isn't lying his ass off as he listens to the crumbling of melting slush below him; his feet feeling heavier than ever.

Seeing as Kenny won't move, Craig takes the most logical step in a very illogical time and tugs Kyle away from the breaking point, stumbling as he does. 

Because McCormick is too far gone. 

Below the surface where Kyle makes desperate attempts to pull away from the other three boys who hold him back lies Kenny McCormick's dead body.

Hours pass.

Memories fade. 

Frowns turn into grins.

"It's a good thing nobody got hurt." Stan says to Kyle, staring at the hole in the ice that remained as they had begun to finish up their game and gather their equipment.

And with a slight thought of the orange-coated blonde crying out for help was whisked away from his memory, Kyle Broflovski smiled.

"Yeah, thank god."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it's been a while! school has been kicking my ass, next chapter will be up asap!!

**Author's Note:**

> kudos/comments would be much appreciated; let me know what you think!
> 
> \+ happy new year lovies <3


End file.
